Tofu
by littleliebling
Summary: Modern!AU, in which Marco works as a checkout chick and Jean likes barbecue tofu a little too much. Disclaimer: I don't own SNK or any of the characters, otherwise this ship would have sailed a long time ago. This is fairly fluffy, but contains lots of swearing on behalf of Jean. Please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N:_ So, this is a oneshot, but I'm not really sure whether to expand it? I kind of planned to, but I'm not sure. Anyway, leave a review and thank you for reading!**

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_I never looked that sexy in a uniform, _I thought to myself shamelessly. I wasn't quite sure what to feel, looking at that boy. Part of me was a little bit jealous, more of me wanted to grab that hot piece of ass and fuck him senseless. Or something.

Mostly just something.

It was kind of stupid, in a way. He was actually making me flustered, and I really didn't like that. I mean, I'm Jean Kirschtein. I'm supposed to cruise in; all charm and two-tone hair and nipple piercings. I'm supposed to smooth talk the pants off every faggot I meet, literally. I'm not supposed to get _flustered. _

That's how I imagined myself, anyway. I guess, sometimes, that's how I am, but this guy was totally throwing off my game. All freckles and smiles and too-white teeth. Rippling muscle and perfectly proportioned hands. Fuck those hands, or maybe, fuck, those hands. I wasn't entirely sure.

To distract myself from feeling distinctly unruffled (my face was getting red, for fuck's sake), I stared down at my grocery list and pretended to read it. I skimmed the scrawled words absentmindedly, trying not to think of what was underneath that boy's green supermarket uniform. Hot _dayum, _it was difficult not to let my mind wander casually into his pants. Nevertheless, I tried my absolute best to focus singularly on the crumpled paper in my hand.

It wasn't like I really needed to read my grocery list anyway. I'd recited it so many times, in so many different stores, to so many different people, that I knew it completely off my heart. That list practically plagued my dreams. Mentally, I cleared my throat: _Soy Milk, Brown Sugar, Lube, Grapes, Chocolate, Nuts, Green Apples and Barbecue Tofu._

I'd managed quite easily to procure every item on the list - even the lube - except the fucking barbecue tofu. Seven different supermarkets, seven different selections of vegetarian products, and not a single one had the goddamn tofu. Except this one. Reaching to grab the final three packets of soy-ey goodness felt like the resolution to some evangelical quest or something, like _Monty Python and The Holy Grail. _Or whatever. That was probably a shitty comparison.

But anyway, I was so caught up in my epic tofu saga or whatever that I didn't notice the line to the checkout had jerked forwards. There was that smoking hot guy again, beckoning me forwards impatiently...

Sheepishly, I shuffled forwards and places my tofu on the conveyor belt, trying not to look Mr Checkout Chick in the face. Instead, I let my eyes drift down to his name-tag, cheerfully adorned with a _rainbow flag sticker holy shit he's gay too. _Before I could stop myself, my eyes widened and my head snapped up and I was looking "Hi, My Name's Marco" right in the eyes.

Marco seemed to have caught what I was staring at and reached with a long finger to pick at the sticker self consciously. His facial expression melted into one that was halfway between a kicked puppy and an angry Rottweiler. I was worried he'd misunderstood my surprise.

"Do you have a problem?" His voice was deep, but it had a certain _lightness _to it, and I couldn't help but like the way he skimmed delicately over each syllable. I felt my eyebrows crinkle together habitually, wrinkling in the middle and lighting my face up with a kind of surly confusion.

"No, no... I'm, uh, I'm like that too."

_Wow, Jean, 'like that?' What are you, a middle school student?_

I bit my lip and tried to smile in a way that mirrored him, but I found myself struggling with the innocence in the grin and gave up. His eyes brightened, though, and he _literally _turned that frown upside down. Like, I could see the whole rotation, the way his mouth just turned over into a perky, devastatingly cute little grin.

"Oh, sorry! I guess I'm just hypersensitive and used to negative stuff," he apologised and finished his sentence with this kind of 'chuckle,' for that was the only word for it.

I couldn't help but smile for real this time. Marco was opening his mouth to say something else when the customer behind me in the line started really obviously tapping her foot and looking at her watch, in a display of frustrating and extremely rude impatience. We both turned to look at her; Marco innocently and I somewhat maliciously. I meant to appear angry, but part of it was just the way I looked - my dark, thin eyes and small, turned-down mouth gave me a perpetually annoyed quality.

The customer raised her eyebrows and spoke in a drawling manner, stringing her words together and playing with her red curls. "Can y'all hurry it up a little bit?" I was about to have a go at her, but Marco jumped in with a slightly bashful _Yes, sorry, of course ma'am._

He handed me my bag and I was suddenly conscious of how odd it was to just buy three packets of barbecue tofu and nothing else, but there wasn't anything I could really do. I payed him quickly with a handful of coins, but as he reached to take the money, our fingers brushed like in one of those tacky romance stories. Except, not quite - I jerked back in alarm at the jolt of static that passed between us. "Shit," I muttered, sucking my finger. Marco had started apologising profusely, but I shook my head and silenced him with a few reassuring, if gruff, words of my own. I offered up yet another smile - my supply was running out - and finally handed him the coins.

By now, the impatient woman was getting seriously pissed, so I hurriedly bustled away. As I went, Marco mumbled a shy "see you," which admittedly made my hopes soar. I nodded my head over my shoulder at him and made my way out of the supermarket, thoughts ruled more by my dick than my brain.

I took a second to lean against the wall and rifle through my bag. The packets of tofu rustled comfortingly in the bottom of it. My hand brushed against the receipt and I pulled it out as I started walking, ready to pin it into my "How-I-Irresponsibly-Spend-My-Limited-Money" book.

After wrenching the door of my significantly unreliable Chrysler Neon open, I flopped onto the squishy/foamy seat and fumbled for my notebook. I uncrumpled the receipt and was about to unceremoniously stuff it into the rather overfull pages, when I noticed another piece of paper was folded inside the top of it. Rolling my eyes and expecting an extra bill or something (that would be just my luck), I carefully extracted and unfolded it.

My heart jumped kind of embarrassingly in my chest, like I was a fucking twelve year old girl or something. I mean, it was seriously no big deal. I got guy's numbers all the time all the goddamn time_. _I got guy's _dicks _all the goddamn time.

Why on earth was Marco's number, staring innocently up at me from the sheet of paper, making me so fucking flustered?

Stupid, sexy checkout chick.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: hiii it's me again! I thought maybe I'd have a crack at continuing it. not exactly sure how to proceed but I guess I'll get there! I have a few plans :) anyway, some reviews would be super super good in helping the story get better, so I'd really appreciate if you just took some time to do so! Please enjoy. Additionally, if you're a sherlock fan, i may be posting something quite soon in that category, so if that happens, check it out! THANK YOU SO MUCH ~~ littleliebling**

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Empty.

Again.

What the fuck?

How, after only a week, was my cupboard empty, devoid completely of all food?

The taste of the last protein bar still lingered teasingly in my mouth as I slammed the flimsy door of the pantry closed. I stormed to the fridge, tugging it open and glaring at the limited contents - a carton of sour milk and half a packet of tofu. I cursed to myself and stretched. _It's too early for this shit, _I thought to myself. All I wanted was a little extra nourishment besides that measly protein bar for breakfast, a bit of instant gratification, but apparently not. I made my way sulkily to the 'living room' (which actually served as a bedroom, storage room _and_ living room) of my apartment to search for my wallet, silently accepting a fate of supermarkets and early morning queues.

I grabbed the ratty pocketbook, my phone and my keys, then wriggled into my shoes and exited the apartment. In the hallway, the air was cold - the central heating here sucked royally - and I power-walked my way to the stairs. I was keen to get out lest Eren noticed I was leaving. That guy never missed a chance to harass me, and despite knowing how immature it was, I always took the bait. We were actually pretty good friends; we just quarrelled like brothers. We were both real assholes, I guess - always angry and pissed off - but it was nice to have somebody to fight with.

I made it out without trouble, fortunately, and jogged loosely to the bus stop, just across the road. The world around me was grey and crisp, and I had a feeling it would be snowing soon. _Jesus, _I thought, _it is so _cold _today._ I felt the hairs on my arms prickle and I looked down to see goosebumps covering my skin.I exhaled, spotting the bus trundling it's way slowly down the street. Mist billowed around me and blew back in my face. It never ceased to excite me, being able to see my breath like that - childish, I know, but what can I say?

Grunting and whirring as it stopped in front of me, the bus opened it's doors and I stepped up inside. I greeted the driver lazily and payed for my ticket, then moved quickly to the back. Being an early Saturday morning, the bus was pretty empty. As soon as I sat down, my phone buzzed - _you've recieved a text message, _I mimicked in my head. I wriggled up on one butt cheek and dug it out of my back pocket. I pressed the home button and the screen flickered to life, displaying the time and underneath, a text message.

From Marco. I smiled devilishly to myself, trying to stop the smirk that was etching itself perpetually into my face. I entered my phone's passcode and lazily scrolled to the messages, pausing to wipe a fingerprint off the screen.

_Hey Jean, you free this afternoon? I'm busy this morning, but we could get a coffee later if you want?_

I smiled. He always ended his texts in a question. We'd been messaging back and forth for maybe a week so far and fuck, he was the cutest thing. This was the first time, though, that either of us had proposed hanging out together. I replied back with an eager _hell yeah - that place next to the bookshop okay? _and put my phone back in my pocket, trying to resist the urge to check it every few seconds._  
_

I rocked backwards and forwards in my seat, watching the world crawl past from the bus window. It was _so goddamn_ _cold _in here... I wrapped my arms around myself and scowled - then I realised something. I looked downward abruptly and... look at that, I hadn't grabbed a fucking jacket. _Well that explains why you're so freezing, dickhead, _I reprimanded myself, _you went out in soon-to-be-snowy weather in a T-shirt. _Resisting the urge to openly and literally facepalm, I pulled my arms inside the sleeves of the shirt - the way everyone used to do in grade school ("look Jean, I have no arrrrrms").

I was just getting kind of comfy and a little less chilly when the bus rounded the corner before my stop. I spotted the supermarket just up the road, and reached out an arm to press the button, before adjusting my T-shirt properly. The bus jerked to a halt and I saluted the driver in the mirror, then swung off the bus into the frigid air outside. My teeth chattered as I loped towards the store. It looked so inviting and warm, the lights glowing a cosy yellow in the fog. I crossed the carpark, managing not to get squished into a pancake by any passing vehicles and crossed the threshold of the store.

The blast of warm air brushed my face as I stepped in, but once I was completely indoors it wasn't actually that hot. I still felt chilled, but the shivering had subsided slightly, which was a plus. I was already getting a couple of weird looks from people, all like _why the fuck is that idiot wearing short sleeves in the middle of winter wow_, but I just glared at the main offenders and retreated into an isle.

I scanned the shelves and realised this was the cereal section - not likely to find bread or any of the other items I needed here. I made a mental checklist, skimming over the basic necessities - milk, bread, tofu, fruit & veg, etc.

_Fuck it, I can't be bothered._

I shoved my hands into my pockets and trudged to the next isle - health food, vegetarian products, etcetera etcetera. I looked down at the floor, vaguely wondering how my shoes got into such a derelict and broken state. I scanned the shelves impatiently. Luckily it didn't take that long to find the tofu - I spotted it within a couple of seconds, actually. However, there was to be a slight complication in the retrieval of it.

As I took an excited step forwards to grab the item of interest, my foot rolled sidewards painfully and I stumbled to my right. I managed to knock something over with my rapidly windmilling arms, and was about to right myself when it all got worse and I tripped over one of those stupid footstools short people use to reach the top shelf. I crashed to the floor, probably shaking the very foundations of the building in the process. I pitied the other customers in the store. They probably felt the ground shake.

I heard an angry voice yell "someone help the idiot in isle seven!" and I attempted to scrabble to my feet, abashed and flabbergasted, but I failed miserably and slipped back onto my ass again. I felt a burning desire to stand up and _run. _I _so _did not need some random employee fussing about me and picking corn nuts up from around my rotting corpse.

"Jean?" someone said.

I looked up into a freckled face and big brown eyes.

Marco.

Oh fuck.


End file.
